Nineteen more days, until I'm fourteen,
It doesn't matter, you all think I'm mean.
Not a child anymore, but not an adult,
I get told this, it is an insult.
You think you know me, you think I'm young,
I hope you choke, on your friggin tongue.
I remember being small, not a care in the world,
Like five colors of paint, my life has been swirled.
Just like a lie, I can see it in your face,
I am the problem child, I'm your disgrace.
You find out that I drink, you know that I smoke,
You can't handle the truth, too much to provoke.
As you watch, my life slips past you,
It's all over, we're stuck just like glue.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Britney (188.8.131.52) -- Wednesday, February 16 2005, 03:05 am|
I like i'm 14 too. I liked it though. ~Britney~
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